


The Messenger

by Optronix



Series: A Collection of Percy Jackson-Inspired Poems [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Emotional Hurt, F/M, Guilt, POV Hermes, Poetry, Post-The Second Titan War (Percy Jackson), Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 12:34:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17867369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Optronix/pseuds/Optronix
Summary: Hermes has been the Messenger of the Gods for thousands of years, delivering everything and anything quite happily.  However, this time, Hermes wishes he didn't have to tell May what happened to their son.





	The Messenger

**Author's Note:**

> So... I'm in a poetry writing class this semester, and I have no inspiration unless it's fandom related. In the coming months, I'll probably be posting a number of the poems I have to write for this class. And my thought is, why not get some feedback. Plus, I actually like really like this one. Anyways, enjoy.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.
> 
> Edit: This is the better, revised version of the previous poem.

The blush of morning fades

as I descend down the path to the grey house,

bearing grief within my messenger bag.

The letter slips through the silver slot

to rest on the frigid hardwood.

 

I have let the knocker fall against the door 

so the sound echoes throughout 

the paper-thin house.

Now I will leave this place

reflecting on the times when the house 

was full of love.

 

Within the dim light of the kitchen

my son is begging for waffles,

his mother offering cereal to him instead

at the table. Now that time is no more as

he is gone, leaving me to think of you, you

who is so far away 

you have caused me to write you this letter.

 

This morning is the same as any from

our time together, those moments shared here.

Again, I walk in between the weeds

towards the rising sun. Again, I

am overcome with guilt, wishing

I could have intervened. Wishing

there had been a different ending

for our son.

 

At the top of the drive, I see you

in a threadbare nightgown fingering

the letter. There is nothing but

sorrow binding the words together,

keeping me together.

We had always known it would come to this.

Yet your wet scream is enough

To drown me. Again, I leave

so you can grieve as you have been

for the last thirteen years.

**Author's Note:**

> Because AO3 is being difficult, I'll just drop it here.
> 
> This poem was an imitation of Tess Gallagher's _Under Stars._


End file.
